


All Our Yesterdays

by ancientcitylullaby



Category: Macbeth - Shakespeare, SHAKESPEARE William - Works
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Character Death, Children, Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Feels, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Medieval, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Plotting, Recovery, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Someone's on a quest for more power, Violence, War, but its not who you think it is, lots of plotting, the characters that die are not either of the main characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2020-07-28 00:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancientcitylullaby/pseuds/ancientcitylullaby
Summary: This is a love story. It took our hero a long time to figure out that it was a love story, but it is a love story nonetheless. Life is fleeting, death takes indiscriminately. He once had a little girl. He loved his best friend but had never told him so. Still, fate twists at his life even now to bring him closer to the man he loves, but will it take him away again?





	1. Prologue

Several years ago, I found myself waking up beside my wife. I remember, she was positively glowing, those were the days back when her heart was full. She sat up in bed, still in her white nightgown, still sleepy-eyed.

I remember the misty blue morning when she told me; the windows were fogged over in their iron frames, and everything seemed a haze.

“My love, have you heard the news?” She beamed, her dark curls draped haphazardly over her shoulders. I shook my head, still half in the daze of sleep. How did she wake up so easily? 

She gently took my hand, and leaned in to whisper in my ear. “We’re having a baby.”

“What? Really?” I couldn’t believe my ears. For all the years we’d tried, watching as Macduff and Banquo and all the others one by one become fathers, while my wife went on ceaselessly of how she wished for a child…  
Banquo’s boy, Fleance, was nearing a year old now. I bet he would like to have someone to play with. I drew my wife into my arms and hugged her tightly.

“How long have you known?” I asked, a little too eagerly.

“Just since yesterday,” she laughed. “But you came home so late, and I was already asleep… oh, Beth, can you believe it?”

“No, no, oh, love, this is wonderful! What should we call them?” I pondered. “If it’s a boy, we’re certainly not naming him Malcolm…. everyone’s named Malcolm these days…  
If it’s a girl…”

I saw her think for a minute, then her eyes lit up. “Lillian.” She interjected, as though she had never been more positive of something in her life.

“Lillian? That’s a pretty name.” I mused. Gruoch always had a way with names. She’d spent years thinking of what to name our children. She made lists upon lists, too many to even keep track of, and she had plenty of time to do so, since we never seemed to have any luck.

So much time she spent with young Fleance; many times if Banquo and his Lady Muldivana were occupied, my wife would offer to watch the young boy. Muldivana had often joked that Gruoch would steal their son away if they weren’t careful enough. I knew why she did it, though; she longed to be a mother herself. 

She then nodded dreamily. “Lillian, like the lilies that grow by the pond, near the back of our castle.” 

I brushed a curl behind her ear, and kissed her cheek. “If you’re so sure, then Lillian she shall be.” I said.

It really was a beautiful name.

————

The months passed by as fleeting as candles in the wind. Before I knew it, I was standing outside our bedroom door, waiting, knots in my stomach as my wife screamed on the other side. It seemed my heart had stopped itself, out of fear that I wouldn’t hear what was going on in that room— such was the tension in the air. I knew many women died in childbirth; it was one of the inevitable dangers of life. I prayed to anyone who would listen that she be protected. 

Then all of a sudden, the screams had ceased, and I heard a different kind of crying. A cry that didn’t belong to my wife, but someone far younger. And my heart restarted and began to race. 

They let me in the room, where I first laid eyes on our baby girl. By this point Gruoch had been set on naming her Lillian, so Lillian she would be. I’ll never forget how tiny she looked in her mother’s arms. Her mother looked tired, but filled with joy, and absolutely enamoured with little Lily.  
“Would you like to see your father, little one?” She asked softly. I leaned in and kissed my wife’s forehead, knitting my fingers into her dark hair.

I then reached my hand toward the child. I’ll never forget how small she was, how delicate. A little hand wrapped around my index finger. 

Her tiny eyes squinted at me. She blinked.

I might have cried.


	2. Flower Buds

It had been about six months since little Lily’s birth. She was still quite small, but was growing into one of the sweetest little babies I’d ever known. I thought this as I watched her crawl across the floor, and I yelped as she tried to fit a small pebble in her mouth. I rushed over and took it away, only for her to start crying. I picked her up and tried to calm her down, pocketing the small stone in the hopes she wouldn’t find it again later. She soon stopped crying, and babbled some unintelligible baby language in my ear.

“My Lord,” said Gruoch, who had just returned from speaking with a servant. “Lord Banquo and his family are here.”

“Now?”  
I had nearly forgotten we’d invited my best friend and his family over this evening. I secretly hoped to see more of Banquo, and I also knew Fleance and Lillian got along very well.

“Yes, now, Beth.” Gruoch repeated, coming over and straightening my hair with her hands. “Why do you look a mess?”

I sighed. “Banquo doesn’t care if I look a mess.”

“I care,” she insisted, poking me in the chest. She was smiling, though.

I then hurried down the stairs, Lily still in my arms, just as I saw Banquo and Muldivana, with young Fleance in tow, the child clearly still learning how to walk. He stumbled along the stone floor in his tiny shoes, his father holding his hand protectively. He giggled when he saw me.

Banquo lifted Fleance up and handed him off to his mother, then rushed over to me.

“It’s been too long, my friend.” He beamed, his blue eyes twinkling. It hadn’t been that long, I laughed to myself, but it seemed so much had happened since I’d seen him last. Lily was growing like a weed. She now pulled at my beard with her little hands.

Gruoch had followed me downstairs, and came to pry our child off of me, so I could properly greet my friend. I ran in and hugged him, realizing how strong his arms felt.

“How goes fatherhood?” He asked me, patting me on the back. I glanced back at little Lily, resting in her mother’s arms, sucking her thumb. I remembered the incident with the pebble earlier today.

“You’ll need to give me some tips, I can’t let her out of my sight without something happening.” I admitted.

He just laughed. “Such is the life of a father. You’ll get used to it in time.”

Gruoch had been conversing with Muldivana, and the two of them soon left with the children.

Then Banquo turned back to me. “Well, my dear Beth, the day is still young, say we go for a ride?”

For some reason, I felt my heart skip at his referring to me as “dear.” Had he called me that before?

“Of course,” I sputtered, then regained my composure. “Come, we’ll go to the stables.”

\--------

Banquo took off ahead of me, laughing as I spurred my horse to catch up. “No fair, you had a head start!” I complained. He only laughed harder. His gold hair was flying in the wind.  
Then I started to laugh too.  
In that moment, I recognized my chance, and quickly passed him up.

He called after me. “Macbeth!” He whined. “Okay, you got me there.” His voice seemed to get further away, but later he caught up to me once more.

All around us the wind seemed to rush by. Fields stretched for miles and miles in emerald green, the sky above clear and endless.

We engaged in a bit more racing, until finally we came upon a stream near a forest. We slowed to a stop, standing before the quietly babbling brook. Light like needles pierced through the trees in the forest beyond, leaves glistened with gems of dew.

“Good game,” I said, panting.

Banquo’s eyes were fixated on the scene before us. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it.” He mused.

I stared down into the stream. The water bubbled by, clear as fine glass, and I could even see tiny fish swimming below, and the smooth pebbles resting at the bottom.

“It really is,” I replied, turning my gaze to Banquo, who was still taking in the scenery.

He was a handsome man, I’d give him that. I might’ve been a little jealous.

“I always did love riding with you.” Banquo said thoughtfully. “I really enjoy your company, Beth.”

“Banquo, I…”  
In truth I didn’t know what I had planned on saying.

“I hope one day to take Fleance out here, once he’s old enough. Would you care to join us?” He continued.

I laughed. Fleance was barely walking, and Banquo was already planning to teach him to ride. “Banquo, that’s a long way in the future,” I pointed out.

He paid almost no mind to my last comment. “But would you?”

Without question, I thought. “Of course. But I wouldn’t want to intrude. On your time with your son, that is.”

He just smiled at me, and waved the thought away. “Ah, Macbeth, you know I consider you as part of the family. It’s you and me, remember? It always has been, even with our wives and all…”

“Banquo?”

“Just remember that.” He said. Then he turned his gaze to the sky. The sun was beginning to dip quite low on the horizon.  
“It’s getting rather late, shall we head back?”

“I think that would be best.” I said.

He didn’t run ahead of me this time. It might have been the rosy evening light, but I could’ve sworn his cheeks had gotten redder.

—————-

The evening meal had been very fulfilling. I was half asleep by the end of it, though I tried to keep a distinguished face, lest Gruoch would tease me for it. Fleance and Lily had been put to sleep a while before, and I hoped to God they would stay that way, without crying in the middle of the night.

Banquo sat beside me, leaning his head on Muldivana’s shoulder, dozing off. “My Lord.” She chided, quietly, and he sat up with a start. “Sorry love.” He apologized. I had to stifle a laugh.

“Well, I think this is a sign we should all go to bed.” Gruoch said, rising from her place at the table. “Macbeth, would you go check on the little ones?” She asked me.

“Why can’t you do it?” I asked.

“Macbeth!”

“Okay, okay, I’m only joking.” I laughed nervously.

She crossed her arms, but she had a playful expression on her face.

“I’ll go too,” Banquo then said, noticeably less tired-looking than he was a few minutes ago. Odd. We both rose from our seats and headed upstairs.

“Long day?” I asked him. “You looked tired.”

“Maybe.” He said. “Maybe it’s the food and drink. Taking this short walk should help, and then I’m off to bed.”

I nodded in agreement. We went to my chambers first, where little Lily was sleeping soundly in her cradle. Her thumb was in her mouth, her face so serene. I always loved the little nightgown we had for her; it was so incredibly small. I reached in to gently stroke her hair.

“She’s beautiful.” Banquo said suddenly, from behind me. I jumped. “Sorry,” he said, “I just noticed.”

“Isn’t she.” I beamed. My little angel.

He laughed, falling backwards onto my bed. “Beth, you know you’re very handsome. I think she takes after you.”

I looked back at him strangely and he looked away. “Banquo, how much have you had to drink?”

“Some… but sometimes drink reveals the truth in all of us...” He trailed off.

“I’ll be wary to listen to the ravings of a drunken man,” I teased, nudging him off the bed and out of the room.

He sighed. “I do mean it truly though. You’re… you’re dashing.”

I just laughed. “Banquo, you’re mad.”

“No, I mean it,” he said, shoving me a little as we exited the room. “If you’d been a woman I’d have surely married you.”

“What! Banquo, that’s quite enough. You mustn’t say such things.”  
What was in those drinks tonight?  
“Imagine if your wife had heard you!”

We made it to his chambers, thank the lord, and fortunately Fleance was out as well, hugging a small pillow in his sleep.

Banquo was practically hanging off of me by now. “Forgive me if my inhibitions were lowered tonight, my Lord.”

I laughed. “Just get to bed, Banquo, sleep it off.” What a madman.

“Of course.” He said, making a halfhearted salute and collapsing heavily on his bed, without turning the covers down, or changing out of his clothes, or anything.

I rolled my eyes. Oh Banquo. He really couldn’t hold his liquor, hence why he rarely drank much. I decided his wife would figure out the situation, what with him lying fully clothed and passed out on the bed. I saw myself out.

But back to what he’d said earlier. He’d have married me if I were a woman? Did he have eyes for me? Was it his weird, drunken way of saying I was attractive? More importantly, why was my heart pounding so much at the very thought of it?

I should put it out of my mind, I decided.

—————

“You do promise I didn’t cause you any distress?” Banquo asked me again, staring worriedly into my eyes. He and his family were preparing to head back home, and he was holding Fleance in his arms.

“It’s alright, I promise. We say the strangest things when steeped with drink.” I patted him on the shoulder.  
I did not ask whether he meant what he’d said. I do love my wife, and intend to keep it that way. All his words were probably just a product of his drunken stupor. If they weren’t? Well, it was best if I never learned.

He simply nodded. “Thank you, Beth.” He said affectionately, setting Fleance down and yanking me into a quick hug. Afterwards, Fleance lifted his arms up to me.

“Ma-Bef,” He said, his attempt at saying “Macbeth.”

“Oh, okay, Fleance. Up you go.” I lifted him up, and he began to laugh. “You have to go home now, but I’ll see you soon okay?” I handed him back to his father.

“Well, I suppose we’ll be leaving then,” Banquo said.

“I will see you soon, yes?” I asked hopefully.

“Undoubtedly.”

Something was off about him today. Surely it was only the aftereffects of last nights drinking.

I hoped he’d return home safe.


	3. Crowns of Daisies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entire fic is a mashup of historical Macbeth/the play Macbeth/whatever I thought was cute so don’t @ me

Lily was tugging at my sleeve. An eager child of 3, she was quite a talker. Her hair was long and usually put into braids, and it bounced all over when she ran through the halls. Gruoch often had to remind her, no running when there were guests in the house, she must learn to be a proper lady. But she was only three. And I knew what my wife had been like in her younger years. We let the child have some fun, at least when we were alone. 

“Papa, can we go now?” She asked, her chubby little face lit up with excitement. 

“Yes, just a moment.” I said. “Your mother is almost ready.”  
I looked over. There, my wife descended the steps, quite like an angel, alighted just above the earth below. She wasn’t dressed in anything special, we were going out into the country after all, but still I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I had quite forgotten my encounter with Banquo those two years ago. My wife was all I needed.

“Hello darling,” she greeted me, throwing her arms around me. Then she turned to Lily, bending down and scooping our daughter into her arms. “My sweet little flower!” She cried, spinning the girl around. “Oh you look so pretty today!” 

I heard our daughter shriek with glee. When my wife finally put her down, Lillian ran over to me. “Papa, Papa, up up up!” She said, reaching her arms up toward me and standing on her tiptoes. I just had to oblige, and I lifted her up and sat her up on my shoulders. She anchored her fingers in my hair. “Can we go now?” She asked again.

For weeks and weeks I had been hard at work attending to my duties around Moray, and I was rarely home to see my family. I came home late with my men and fell asleep instantly, but now I was finally going to spend some time with the people I cared about.

“Yes, we can go.” I laughed. 

We met with Banquo and his family soon enough, and rode out into the countryside, ‘til we could only see fields of daisies for miles in one direction. In front of us lay the grassy cliffs of the sea, and I worried Lily or Fleance might wander off one of them, so I resolved to keep a close eye on both children.

“It’s so pretty!” Lily shouted, jumping up and down. She took off running, and Banquo and I ran after her, to make sure she didn’t go too far or run toward the cliffs. Fleance came chasing after his father, and when I soon caught up with Lily, Banquo eventually let Fleance catch him. The little boy wrapped himself around his father’s leg, clinging like his life depended on it.  
“Fleance, my boy…” Banquo began to say, lightly shaking his foot to try and get the boy off him.  
“I caught you Papa,” Fleance giggled. Banquo shrugged helplessly at me. What is one to do?

I looked over at the children. Lily had made her way over to Banquo, giggling hysterically at Fleance who was still clamped around his father’s leg. 

“Macbeth, a little help here?” Banquo asked, gesturing at Fleance.

I walked over to them. “Bravo, Fleance,” I said, clapping my hands, “You’ve won the game.”

The little boy nodded happily.

“Do you know what that means?” I asked him, kneeling to his level.

He shook his head.

“It means now we get to chase you!” I shouted, “You’d better run!”

His eyes grew wide and he instantly let go of his father’s leg, bolting off through the fields.

I ran after him, surprised because although he was only four, he was shockingly fast. I found myself laughing too, I hadn’t felt so free in a long time.

I finally caught him though, but by that point I was exhausted. Banquo had given up chasing, and so had Lily, as she was still little and fell over a lot from running. Banquo lay in the grass as Lily sat, sticking flowers in his hair, humming as she did so.

“Banquo,” I laughed. “What on earth?”

“Shhh.” He said. “We’re having a moment.”

“Someone should paint a picture of you right now, Banquo, I swear.”

“Lily,” said my wife suddenly, having picked a good amount of daisies from the grass. Lily scurried over. 

“You can make things out of daisies you know. Like a crown.” She then lifted up the flowers in her lap, which had been tied into a neat little crown. Lily stared, awestruck. Her mother placed the crown on Lily’s head. “There,” she said. “Now you are a princess.” My wife said, beaming. 

“A princess?” Lily gasped. “Does that mean you’re a queen, Mummy?” 

“Yes, I suppose so.” laughed her mother. 

“And… then Papa is a king?” Lily continued. 

“I suppose that’s true too!” 

Lily began picking more daisies. “We’ll have to make more crowns then. Teach me how, Mummy!”

Fleance was intrigued. He came over to the two of them. “Can I be a king too?”

“You’re awfully young to be king,” my wife said. “It’s a lot of responsibility. But…” she paused. “I think you could grow into it.”

Before long, the children were captivated as Gruoch taught them how to weave flower crowns. Banquo turned to me, rolling over in the grass, his hair spread around him like a halo. “I suppose you’re king now.” He teased, nudging me. “Wouldn’t that be funny?”

I laughed. “Your son is apparently also king, somehow. Not sure how that would work.”

I caught Banquo staring intensely at me. “I do think you’d make a good king.” He said thoughtfully.

“Well, not as if it’s really going to happen.” I said quietly. Lily ran up to me, proudly bearing a lopsided flower crown.

“Put this on, Papa, you’re king now.” 

“Am I? What would King Duncan say?” I asked, in feigned shock. 

“Shh.. it’s make believe, Papa.” She said. Alright, alright. She placed the crown on my head. 

“Do I get one?” Banquo asked her expectantly, propping himself up with one arm.

“You have enough flowers.” Lily smiled, skipping away.

“Oh, okay.” Banquo said, and bowed his head in mock sadness. Some of the flowers fell out of his hair.

“Take heart, Banquo, even if you’re not a royal, your son is.” I gestured to Fleance, who was jumping around wearing not one, but two flower crowns, for some reason.  
Lily, who now had a necklace and two bracelets of flowers as well, showed off her new jewelry excitedly, waving her arms around.  
She then ran to her mother, arms outstretched. Gruoch swept her up and held her tight. “My little Lily love, my pride and joy…” she whispered. “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“What ever could happen to me mother?” She asked, inquisitively.

“Shh.. nothing. Your papa and I will keep you safe.” My wife responded.

Banquo sat beside me, silent.  
And I got to thinking. I was a general in the King’s army. At a moment’s notice, I could be called to war. It was a blessing that I had been given these three years in peace since Lily’s birth, but would it last? What if something happened to me in battle? What would become of her?  
I supposed they could turn to Banquo… but no, I had to stay alive for my little Lily. She was counting on me.  
If only will alone could keep the beat of my heart intact.

“You look so serious,” remarked the man beside me. “You do that a lot. What’s on your mind?” His fingers brushed my hand, but then he pulled them away, looking a little embarrassed. 

“Banquo, I don’t want to lose this.” I said. 

“Why are you thinking about that?”

“What if we’re called to war again? What if we don’t come back? How do you deal with it?” I asked him. 

He lay back in the grass, and thought for a moment. “You think so much on death. It’s not healthy. You know, any of us could die any day, but do we sit around worrying that it will happen? Of course not, because then we’d never enjoy the moments we have on this earth! That’s how I think about it anyway.” His eyes were focused on the clouds above.

“I guess you’re right.” I said, laying back next to him. Soon Lily came over and climbed up over me, and rested her head on my chest. I put my arm around my daughter. Fleance came soon after, jumping onto his father and probably knocking the wind out of Banquo; Fleance was getting too big to jump on people whenever he wanted to. After my friend sat up and caught his breath, I watched Muldivana make her way over to him, stroke his hair, and then kiss both her son and her husband on the cheek. I felt a sort of yearning I couldn’t place, and it tugged persistently at my heart.

Gruoch soon came over to me, laying in the grass beside me. “I think she’s asleep.” She said, smiling. I smiled back, as she held my hand.

Life seemed perfect, in those moments, and I didn’t ever want it to end.


	4. Candles

I was standing outside my room. Lily was at the far end of the hall, and when she saw me she started smiling. She ran toward me, and as she drew close I readied myself to catch her in my arms.

She seemed to fall in slow motion. The light left her eyes as she stumbled, toppling forward onto the floor. I ran, and I tried and failed to reach her before she hit the ground. Suddenly the world seemed much bigger and more forlorn. The walls were suddenly unwelcoming, and seemed to grow around me.

I instantly called for Gruoch, who came running. I heard a sob catch in her throat.

Lily had gone limp, the color drained from her face. Gruoch snatched our daughter away from me, and I felt myself reaching out after her— I didn’t want to let go. I was afraid to. 

“Go find a doctor,” Gruoch ordered, her jaw tight. She clung to Lily like her life depended on it, while our daughter lay still as a rag doll.

I felt tears stinging my eyes, a sob welling in my throat, but I wiped them hastily with my sleeve, and choked back my tears.

When I returned with the doctor, Lily was in bed, Gruoch a panicked mess beside her.

Lily was sick, but the doctor wasn’t sure with what. He gave her some medicine that was supposed to help her anyway. She awoke some time later, but she was so much weaker…. 

How has this happened? One moment she was smiling and happy, and then the next, she was… 

I came in and knelt by her bedside, noticing she was awake. “Lillian…” I said slowly, softly. 

“Papa…?” She asked weakly.

“You’re sick Lily,” I said, “y-you need to rest up so you can get better.” 

“Are you afraid Papa?” She asked me.

“W-What? I….”

“I’m afraid.” 

There was that catch in my throat again. My eyes were getting damp. “Lily, sweetheart, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” I lied, trying to spare her the truth, that we really didn’t know.

“Papa, I want to get better.” She said, followed by a dry cough. 

“You… you will, Lily.” More lies, because I didn’t know, and that terrified me. I clung to her hand, so much smaller than mine, so much softer. Every day she seemed more like a doll. It all scared me, like she was so small and fragile she might disappear any minute and leave me and Gruoch forever. I couldn’t let that happen, I—

“Papa…” she began again, “Once I’m better, I’d like to go play with Fleance again. Can we do that? I miss him.”

“Yes, dear, anything you want, we’ll make it happen.” I assured her, sincerely, squeezing her hand.

“Can you make me better?” More coughing.

“We’re trying… Lily, we’re doing all we can…”

She coughed a few more times.

“Just you rest now okay? It’s important that you get your rest so you… so you can feel better.”

“Okay…” she replied, and I could see her little eyelids getting heavy. 

As she drifted asleep, I stepped outside the room. 

I sunk to the floor just outside her door, quietly, and buried my face in my hands so she wouldn’t hear me crying.

—————-

“She was poisoned!” Gruoch cried, insistently. “Someone in this castle poisoned our daughter, there’s no way—”

I grabbed her by the wrists and saw her eyes were bloodshot. “Stop shouting. Do you really think anyone here would have cause to harm Lily?”

“I’m sure it was! How else could she have—”

“She’s sick, Grouch. If it had been poison, why wouldn’t the rest of us be sick too?”

My wife’s eyes glazed over suddenly. She leaned into my chest.  
“Is she going to be okay?” 

Truth be told, I didn’t know. Children got sick right? But many children died of such ailments... I shuddered. Not my Lily, no. We won’t let her. I’ll do anything to make her well.

My wife was clinging to my arm, trembling slightly.   
“Macbeth,” She whispered.

“Yes love?”

Her grip on my arm tightened, but out of desperation, not anger.

“I don’t want to lose her.”

My heart was heavy with doubt, but I assured her, “We won’t.”

————

Lily did not get better. 

Really, it all happened so fast. A few days later, we had wished her goodnight, and the next morning we found her, an image of unearthly peace. I knew that instant that she was gone. 

My wife came up running behind me, my hand clamped over my mouth, tears beginning to flow.

No more flower crowns, no more being chased by little legs, no songs and dances and dark, braided hair, no more tiny hands and feet clambering on me, no more Lillian, no, no, no...

It was pitiful, watching my wife. “Lily, it’s time to wake up, little one, you’ve been sleeping a while, we just want to check on you, then you can go back to sleep…” she begged and begged her to wake up. But our daughter lay still.

She sat herself on the bed, feeling the girl’s cheeks. “She’s cold…” I heard her remark, her voice faltering. She wrapped Lily up in blankets and held her, so limp in her arms. 

She was rocking her and rocking her until she looked up at me. I, tears streaming down my face, went over to her, and she let me hold our daughter. I clutched our child to my chest and sobbed into her black, tangled hair.

We must have held her for hours. It just wasn’t fair. 

I had feared I might be slain on the battlefield, I had feared war would take me away; I never once thought I would lose Lillian. Everything had been too perfect, she was healthy, she was happy, and still… still….  
I wondered what we would have to do with her birthday gifts, she would have turned four in less than a month.

“Beth…” my wife said, her voice weak from crying. She stroked Lily’s hair.

“I know, I know, it’s okay.” I said quietly, trying in vain to comfort her.

I felt an uncharacteristically hard grip around my arm.

She jerked me around to face me. “How dare you! You can’t ever say it’s okay! She’s gone, gone forever!”   
She laid our child back on the bed, crying for a little while longer, not looking at me. She was on her knees.   
Then she rose, and stormed out of the room, leaving me alone with Lily.

But now I was here alone with my daughter. 

“Why you, why so young? You were… it wasn’t fair. Please come back, please wake up and tell us you were only sleeping…”

Is this the last moment I look upon her?

I brushed aside her hair, placing a kiss on her forehead, before covering her with a sheet. I didn’t want to leave her, it didn’t seem right, but eventually I did.

We buried her the next day. Banquo and his family were there, as well as some of the other lords. I spoke to no one, though I saw him try to reach me, his eyes full of concern, but I pushed him away.

The coffin was so small.


	5. Warmth

Banquo.   
I hadn’t meant to push him away at the funeral. It still tugged at my heart, persistently.

He had always been there for me. I should have talked to him, maybe I should have let him in. 

I didn’t want to see anyone, speak to anyone after she died. But that couldn’t be good for me.

I think I’d like to see him right now.

One of the servants, timidly half-hiding behind the doorway, stepped into view. “My Lord,” she said, “Lochaber is at the front gate, should we let him in?”

Couldn’t have been better timing. I descended the stairs to greet him. 

When he walked in, he was, I noticed, without Fleance or his wife. So he must have had important matters to discuss. That, or he wasn’t safe. He looked around cautiously, though this was a place he had known for a long time.

He startled as he turned around and saw me behind him. I had come quickly, and silently, I supposed.

“My Lord,” he said, “I didn’t get a chance to speak with you at the funeral. I’m so sorry…” 

I nodded. “Thank you.” Was all I could say in return. I tried to smile.

“I just wanted you to know I’m here.”

“What brings you out here?” I asked,

“I… s’pose I thought you could use a friend.”

That was sweet of him. And even after I had been so cold.

“If it’s alright.” He said, cautiously. 

“Of course, of course it’s alright.” I said, almost begging him to stay.

It really was quiet in here. I hadn’t seen Gruoch all morning, but the last time I’d seen her we’d gotten into another argument. I didn’t speak to her after that. She mostly ignored me these days, and it was unbearable. 

“It’s so strange, not hearing her laughter in the halls.” I said, after a moment of silence. 

Banquo seemed unsure of what to say at first, then he continued, “She was a wonderful little girl. And you were a wonderful father, Macbeth.”

“Not good enough to protect her, it seems.” I muttered. I looked up at him.

“You have to know it wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.” 

I just frowned.  
“Do you think she can see us, from wherever she is?” I asked. 

From an open window I could see the sky, much greyer and less inviting than it had ever been, like there was nothing beyond it, and not much of note below. 

“I know if she could, she wouldn’t want to see you so sad. Neither do I.” He said. 

“I suppose you’re right.” I sighed. 

I stood there a moment, staring off into space. The wall, the wall just beyond me, the window, nothing outside, it’s empty, empty, what will become of me from now on? How am I supposed to go on?

I was leaning against the wall. I slowly slid down, feeling my legs weak or perhaps lacking the willpower to hold myself up any longer. He caught me in his arms, probably fearing I was going to pass out, but no, I just was breaking down. 

Usually I don’t like anyone to see me cry. They ask questions, they make it worse. But right now I didn’t care. With no one to talk to except Gruoch, I was losing it, and she wouldn’t talk to me, no, she would never talk about what happened, she would never let me in, and had I done that to him?

He hadn’t let go of me that whole time. This felt surprisingly good, safe perhaps. I hadn’t felt safe in a long time. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He kept saying. I tried to focus on his voice.

Bit by bit, after what seemed like hours, I was able to stop crying. My sleeves were soaked. 

“I’m sorry…” I said quietly. 

He shook his head. “Never apologize for how you feel.” Something in that statement hit harder than it should have.

I wiped the final tears from my now reddened face, and sighed.  
“I’m tired of all this melancholy, Banquo, tell me something new in your life. I’d like to think about something else.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. “Well, I have news, though I’m not sure it’s what you need to hear right now.”

“I’d like to hear anything if it means distracting myself.” I insisted.

“Are you quite sure?”

“Yes.”

“Very well,” he said slowly,   
“Fleance is getting a little sibling.”

“Oh…”

Right. I lose my only child, he gains another?  
That didn’t seem fair to me. Not at all. Macduff had three children for god’s sake, and they all were alive and well. Why was I the only one not allowed to have that?

I realized I had been digging my nails into my palm, and I let go, finally feeling the burning sensation I had left.

Then quickly, my thoughts softened. Fleance was a lovely little boy. Banquo has raised him well, he would do equally as well with another child. I envied him, it’s true, but part of me knew I should be happy for him.

“That’s wonderful,” I smiled, putting my hand on his shoulder. 

“Are you alright, Macbeth?” He asked me, uneasily. I hoped he didn’t catch the look in my eyes. Jealousy? Want?

“Yes, yes, why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Nothing,” he replied.

“My Lord!” I heard my wife shout, bursting out of our closed chamber doors. The door slammed hard against the wall behind it. “What is he doing here?” She demanded. 

“We were just talking.” I explained, standing up quickly and stepping away from him. “Banquo came to see me.”

“Lord Banquo, this castle is in mourning, please show some respect.”

“My apologies.” Banquo said sincerely, rising as well. “I only meant to console my friend, I didn’t mean to be out of line.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I protested.

“Banquo, you’re not welcome here. Get out.” She snapped. She went back into our room and slammed the door. 

“I’m sorry Banquo…”I said after she was gone. She’s not in her right mind.”

“No, I’m sorry, I should go. I’m not even in black, how clumsy of me…. I’ll just see myself out…”

“No, wait, Banquo!” I still wanted to talk with him, I didn’t want to be alone with my wife when she was in a mood. I also wanted him to stay, his presence was so comforting. I don’t think I was ever so sincere with anyone else. I couldn’t help begging him to stay.

He paused a moment, at the foot of the stairs. And he looked up at me.

“We could take a walk,” he said. “Some fresh air might do you good.” 

“Yes, please, just don’t leave--” I near-begged him. “A… A walk sounds nice.” 

\-----------

Outside, the sky was foggy, and a breeze blew over the hills. He had his hands in his pockets, walking silently beside me. I hadn’t felt well in days, something deep inside sickened me, where every thought felt like poison. I needed him to talk, I think I would lose my mind if he didn’t drag me out of this…

“Miserable day, isn’t it.” He muttered, staring up at the sky.

I nodded, still feeling sick. He looked at me. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. I just nodded.

The breeze was light, but I was chilly. I drew my cloak closer around myself. 

“Are you cold?” He asked. 

“Only a little…” I said quietly. 

“Want to borrow my cloak?” He asked. “It’s heavier than yours.”

“But then what would you wear?”

“I’d wear yours. Trust me, I can handle a little cold.”

“Who says I can’t?” I said indignantly. 

“It was only an offer.” He backed down. “Besides, I suppose I could still keep you warm.”

God damnit….

He put an arm around me. Almost instantly I felt warmer.

For a while we walked and talked, and a few times he even got me to smile. I really did need to get out of that old castle sometimes. Too many memories. 

Eventually, we realized it was getting later, and he still had a long journey home. I begged him to stay, and while he said he wished he could, he also argued that Gruoch would never allow it. I made him promise to be safe; riding at night was never a good idea. He told me he would stop in a nearby town before too long, once it got dark.

I wanted to go with him, I wish I could just leave. Maybe never come back to this place.

“Take heart, I’ll see you soon, Beth,” he said. We were back outside the castle now, and he was readying his horse to leave. “Fleance and his mother will be missing me.”

“If you must,” I said reluctantly.

As he left, my mind went back to that time nearly three years ago, when he and I wandered these very halls, him being drunk out of his mind. “I’d have married you if you were a woman.” For a moment I decided to entertain the possibility once more. I had to admit to myself, he was rather handsome, the way his blonde hair fell over his face, his bright blue eyes.

Something about him made me feel like I would make it through this, despite everything. I did hope he would make it home alright.

The sky still loomed above, just like always, but for some reason, though it might have been my imagination, it didn't seem quite as gray.


	6. Out, Out.

"Dear Bethad, 

I have wonderful news! Maud is nearly due to have the baby. Everything has been normal so far, I believe the delivery will go just fine! I’m writing to humbly request that you come to visit; I’m sure the new baby would love to meet you.

Best regards,

Banquo.”

“Who’s that from?”

Gruoch was standing behind me, just in the shadows. Her hair looked matted and unkempt, and her eyes were rimmed with dark circles.

“It’s from Banquo. The new baby’s due.” I told her.

“Baby?”  
She almost laughed. “H-he’s… they’re having a baby?” She was fiddling with her sleeve, nearly tearing it. I took hold of her hands. 

“Why didn’t you tell me they were having a child? Why, Beth?”

“I thought I did…” I began. “Gruoch, I know he’d like to see you too, please, come with me… it would do you good…”

She shook her head. “W-what do you think they’re going to name the child? That… that’s a very special part…”

“Gruoch…” I tried to take her in my arms as I felt her trembling with sobs.

“Why…” she began. She hardly reacted to me putting my arms around her, as if I weren’t even there.

“I know, I know. It’s okay, love.” I whispered to her. She shook her head. 

“Why,” she spat, “Couldn’t you give me a child who lived!” 

“Gruoch!” I shouted back, startled as she pushed me away. 

“I won’t go to see him, I won’t see his precious new child and I won’t see his son, don’t you dare ask me to torture myself in such a way! Get out, get out!”

“Gruoch, please, just talk to me…”

“I have nothing to say to you. Perhaps I was right about you. You killed my first husband. It seems death follows wherever you go.”

I had nothing to say to that.   
My cousin’s blood was on my hands. But my father’s blood was on his. And the cycle only continues.  
I let her leave.

\-------

After a few days’ journey, I came upon Lochaber castle. I expected Banquo would come running any minute, eager to introduce me to his son or daughter.

I approached the gates. The guards stood motionless, somber, but they moved to let me in, as they knew me well. I asked where Banquo was, and if the baby had been born yet. One of the guards looked down at me. “The Thane of Lochaber is not having any visitors right now.” He said. 

That couldn’t be right though, perhaps he was busy? He had asked me to come.

“Please, can you at least tell him I’m here? Tell him Macbeth, ehm… Moray is here, he requested my presence specifically.”

The guard nodded, and headed upstairs. He returned a few moments later. “Lord Banquo will see you.” He declared, and bid me follow him.

The guard stopped at the chamber doors, and that is where he left me. I knocked softly. 

Banquo opened the door for me, tears in his eyes.

“Well, what’s the news?” I asked in anticipation. I saw him swallow hard. He looked awful, like years had been taken off his life, and I realized these were not tears of joy. He let me in the room, where finally I saw it. 

On the bed lay a still, human form draped with a white sheet.

“N-No…” 

I felt sick to my stomach.

His eyes stared right past me, as if at something far away.

“Do you know” he finally spoke, “that Fleance would not let go of his mother for hours?”   
“We had a girl, Macbeth, she was a girl. Do you think she and Lily could have been friends?”

My heart stung with the mention of Lillian’s name. “Yes, they could have been, I’m sure they would have been.” I said gently.

“I-I wish she’d have gotten a chance to meet me, if there were any way to tell her that I love her even still…” 

I led him gently to a bench by the window, and he collapsed onto it. 

“Banquo, do you remember what you said to me? I think she knows that. If she were to know anything, I think she knows that.” I whispered to him. 

“I suppose you’re right…”

He was leaning against me now, his head on my shoulder, I was stroking his hair, like I used to do when my wife was upset, and he seemed to relax a bit, sobs soon fading away. His hair was just as soft as it looked.

“Let’s leave this room.” I said quietly. He nodded, hesitant to let go. I slowly led him to the door. 

We sat down in one of the guest rooms and I let him cry a little longer, sitting there in silence with him. 

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this.” He muttered. 

“No, no, I know what it’s like.” I hushed him. I hadn’t had this much contact with another man in… well, ever. He was clinging to me, like he knew everyone in his life was vanishing, and he was afraid if he let go, he would lose me too. 

He wiped the tears from his face. “I suppose we should check on my boy, I sent him away from that dreadful room, you know.” He said, rising. I followed him down the hall to a room where some servants were taking care of the boy. Fleance lay curled up on the floor, and it was clear no one could console him. He had stopped crying at least, which was no small victory.

“Fleance, little one,” Banquo said softly, “someone is here to see you.” 

The boy looked up at us. “Is it mother?” He asked. 

I knelt down to see him. “Hello Fleance,” I said. 

“Where’s mother?” He asked again, tearing up. I looked up at Banquo, who reached down to pick up his son. “Fleance,” He said gently, “your mother can’t be with us right now.” 

Fleance started crying again.

It wasn’t fair, I knew that much. He didn’t deserve this. I could see how much he was hurting, and his little boy too. I really tried my best, but I wished I could do more. 

None of it was fair at all. 

————-

“Above all I want to tell Maud I’m sorry.” Banquo sat down again. We were sitting together in a spare room, since no one could go into his bedroom right now. Outside, the earth was silent, as if holding its breath, save for the creaking of an open window. I rose from the bed to shut it. He sat, no longer crying, but with a vacant, weary stare on his face, as if he were drained of absolutely everything.

“Sorry?” I blinked. “Whatever for?”

He only sighed. “She deserved better than me. I was no husband.” 

What could he possibly mean by that? “Don’t you dare say a thing like that, Banquo.You’re a good man, and a great husband and father, I would know.” 

He looked back at me. “You think so? Oh, but you don’t know what I’ve done… oh, what if the reason they’ve died is because of…” He clamped a hand over his mouth. “Was it my fault? I’m being punished, aren’t I…”

“Punished? Whatever for? You never laid a hand on her, did you?”

“No, of course not, I would never!”

“Were you unfaithful?”

“N..no…”

“Then what do you think you’d have to be punished for?”

“We should go to bed, it’s late!” He insisted, cutting off the previous thought.  
“Thank you so much for coming.” He clasped my hands firmly, and rushed out of the room.

————

Banquo and Fleance slept soundly together in the other room; the little boy was too afraid to sleep on his own tonight. I was now lying alone with my thoughts. 

What had he meant when he said it was his fault that they died? What could he have possibly done to warrant such punishment? What could anyone have done to deserve that?

Of course, he didn’t deserve any of that. No one deserves that, least of all him. 

I hoped he was alright. He and his son.

No, someone like him didn’t deserve to lose so much. 

He was always so kind to me, and to everyone we knew. I didn’t know what to think, seeing him breaking down like that. It awakened something in me, a feeling that I needed to protect him at all costs. It was a strange feeling, and one that I didn’t fully understand.

The first thing I really wanted to do was to make him happy again. I at least wanted him to be okay. His poor wife, and their poor baby girl…

I wasn’t sure what I could do, I knew I couldn’t fix it, but I would do all that I could.


	7. A Gathering Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I said before that Lily’s illness and sudden death had not been poison. I lied. It might have been poison. You should absolutely not rule out that it was poison.

Lillian had lived and died in a time of peace.

I would give anything to go back there, when there was no war to be fought, and I could spend my days at home with her and my wife, that is, when I was not travelling around Moray. The feeling of coming home to little Lily throwing her arms around my leg and laughing as I tried to walk with her still clamped on me; when I would finally pick her up and kiss her on the forehead and she would laugh and laugh because she missed me, and now I was back! I had been a father once, not so long ago at all…  
No, a time like that was no time for war. It was a time for peace and childlike joy. 

But soon, as if called up by her untimely death, war returned to our land, reaching deep into mine and Banquo’s crumbling homes.

I knew there were growing tensions between our King Duncan and the Earl of Northumbria. Land disputes, the usual. It would of course, be my business if they went to war; I would be called to fight for Scotland.

To Inverness I returned in silence, the echo of my steps on the stone floor reverberating against the walls, my home, sounding hollow as ever.  
I thought about searching for my wife, but I decided to let her be. 

There was a letter, addressed to me, sitting on a table by the door. The familiar seal caused my pulse to quicken before I even read the first word. I tore it open. 

As I suspected, it was from the king. The conflict with Northumbria had only grown. He was asking me to lead an army against them, for they had tried to lay claim to Lothian, land that was given to us Scots many years ago. I sighed. My vision fixated on the chair at our table that had been empty for nearly two years. Where she used to sit, babbling about this and that and when would we see Fleance again? And “I wish Papa would be home more often..”

I didn’t want to fight any stupid war. I wanted my baby girl back. I should have been there when I had the chance, if I had known I would only get three years with her? Could I have changed it? 

I wanted Banquo to stop staring off into the darkness, his eyes like glass. I wanted my wife to look at me again, to stop blaming me for the loss of our child…

But I had to go, didn’t I? I had to go, I had to raise an army and go fight Duncan’s stupid war. Moray, who are you? Have you abandoned your country for your grief? Be strong, didn’t your father tell you--"

“What’s that?” I heard her voice from behind me, and I spun around. She snatched the letter from my hands before I had a chance to give it to her.

She scanned it quickly, before looking back up at me. “So you’re leaving again?” She asked.

I got a good look at her. Robed in black, though the period of mourning had been over quite a while. My chest tightened. The silence, the wandering, the pacing and vacant stares... It wasn’t natural. She almost blended into the darkness in the hall, save for her face, uncharacteristically pale from never venturing outside. She looked very thin, almost half of what I remember her to be. This was not my wife, this was an apparition, come to haunt me, a cruel reminder of what I’d lost.

“It appears so, yes.” I said quietly, as non confrontational as could.

Silence. A cold stare, deep into my eyes, pierced me to the core. It made me nervous, so I looked away.

Where was the wife I used to know? The one who first told me we were having Lily? The one I spun in circles around the room, the one who taught our daughter to weave flower crowns and who didn’t leave me at night to wander aimlessly in the dark, where was the wife that had a heart to love? Had Lillian taken all of that with her when she died?

Had I been a good enough husband? I should’ve tried to be there for her more, it was hard when she wouldn’t speak to me…

“You will return, yes?” she asked me, though I sensed she didn’t care whether the answer was yes or no.

“I don’t know. I intend to.” I said. “Gruoch…” I pleaded. 

She, unflinching, waited for me to continue.

“I love you.” I said. Almost as a question, as if asking, "do you love me too?"

I saw the corner of her lip twitch. She turned and started away from me. 

Then she looked back over her shoulder, at me, defeated before I ever took to the battlefield, and some form of pity must have entered her heart, because she turned and came back to me, and threw her arms around me. I nearly stumbled on my feet.

“Promise you’ll come back.” She said. 

“I’ll come back, I promise.” I assured her. “How many times have we done this before?”

“Many times, but still. I lost a daughter, I don’t want to lose you too.”

I wanted to ask her about all the previous months, but it felt like I finally had my wife back. I relished in the feeling, it had been so long since she held me like this… Still, it was different somehow, she clung to me like clinging to life itself; it was desperate, not tender. I had felt this before, from someone else.

“You promise…?” she repeated. 

“I promise.”

The ghost of a smile crossed her lips, but it was gone before I had blinked twice. 

The silence between us two had been deafening for so long. I left without another word, to begin readying myself for yet another journey. 

———

I arrived with my men and the rest of Duncan’s forces some time later. We were weary from our travels, but I was relieved all the same, now being miles away from home, and all the memories, and all the ghosts. The land before me looked like a small city made of tents. Men running about, some standing and discussing, perhaps battle plans? I was driven from my thoughts, however, because soon enough, I collided headlong into a tall, muscular man, with curly dark hair. He towered at least a head above me. 

I rubbed my nose, which had smacked right into his chest. “Ow…” I muttered.

“Oh, terribly sorry sir! He cried, offering me a hand. When I met his eyes I saw they were deep brown, almost black, yet still full of life. He seemed to recognize me, and his face lit up when he did. 

“Bethad, you’re here at last!” He exclaimed, holding me at arms’ length, studying me. “I’ve heard so much about you! Macduff, Thane of Fife, at your service.” he said, with a quick bow.

I blinked, because I wasn’t sure if I had ever met a man with quite this… energy, before, but I was glad for the positive company. “Honored to meet you, sir.” I smiled. 

“Is it true that you once single-handedly took down a horde of Vikings?” He asked eagerly, starting right in with the questions.

“N-no, wait, what are they saying about me?” I asked. I had fought the Vikings on the coasts of Moray, sure, and my ass of a cousin, Thorfinn, but /single-handedly/ was a bit of an exaggeration.

“They also said you retook Moray by burning your cousin alive--”

I froze, and felt my stomach churn at the mention of Gillecomgan.

He noticed this right away. "Macbeth?" He asked.

In my head I saw the scene, long before Lily was born, before I even married my wife. A tower was burning bright against the dimming sky.  
It was my doing; I had been trying to flush Gillecomgan and his men out so they would come and face me. For killing my father, for taking Moray, I wanted him to face me, yes, but I wouldn’t just burn someone alive… But they had never left the tower… I remember the sick feeling in my stomach, not unlike the feeling I was getting right now. 

Moray was mine through my father, and my cousins had killed him. But I hadn’t meant for him to die so unfairly. I was a warrior; I was not a butcher.

Did the smoke kill you first? Or were you swallowed by the flames?

I blinked, finding myself back among the living. 

Duff looked visibly concerned, and I wonder how long I had been lost in memory. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be out of line.” He apologized.

I nodded. “It’s alright.” I said quickly, and did my best to pretend it was the truth.

He continued, caution in his voice.  
“...Some of us have got a fire going just over that way, you should come! You know the Thane of Lochaber, yes?”

Snapping out of my guilt-ridden trance, I nodded. “Banquo? He and I are good friends, is he alright?”

Duff looked uneasy. “He’s alright, I think he’s going through a lot. Ever since Lady Maud and the baby were lost…”

“Take me to him, please.” 

He nodded, and I followed him.

We finally neared several men sitting around a decent sized fire, and I tried not to feel queasy at the sight of the flames, after the conversation I had just had with Duff. I scanned around until I saw Banquo, and Macduff and I headed over to join him.

“Beth?” Wide, blue eyes met mine in the glow of the orange firelight. He rose from where he sat, and quickly pulled me into a hug. It was startling, but welcome.

“Oh.... so you’re really close.” Duff remarked. I shot him a look.

“It’s good to see you.” Banquo whispered.

“Good to see you too.”

I noticed he did not smile during the entire exchange. His eyes were wide and reddened at the corners. His hands that held me were shaking. Had he been sleeping…?

I was about to say something else, when I was pulled away by another strong hand on my shoulder. I spun around to come face to face with a man about my height, but considerably more muscular, with long, fire-red hair tied back out of his face. It looked like it would fly every which-way if left unchecked. “Macbeth!” He exclaimed. This time, I recognized him. 

“Macdonwald.” I said.

He reached out a hand, and I clasped it, noticing the large ring on his one hand. Silver, set with a large, emerald green stone.  
I was uneasy around this man. His family had ownership of a small region of land, of which he was Thane, but I knew they also had sought after Moray in the past. Reportedly they had once presided over much larger swaths of land, but no longer, and I could only imagine why. I knew his family was not above rebellion to get what they wanted. Macdonwald still had the favor of Duncan, though tentatively so. Personally, I didn’t trust him any further than I could throw him.

“Come to defend Scotland from the English, I see. Shame when people try to take land that’s not rightfully theirs.”

“You’re one to talk.” I said.

“Beth?”  
Banquo took hold of my hand and pulled me back to the group. Macdonwald did not follow. 

\--------------

That night, I returned to my tent, dirty and exhausted, although the war had not even begun yet. But I felt better. Just being around people besides my wife... it was relieving. 

Banquo had left the others a little earlier than I had. I hoped he was doing okay. Part of me thought I should try and talk to him, but maybe he didn’t want to talk. Also I… had little faith in my abilities to comfort anyone at the moment. I slowly peeled off my mud-encrusted clothing… Why did Duff think it was a good idea to wrestle each other in the dirt? Still, that man was a riot. I hoped only good things would come to him. Even if he did make that one comment about my cousin...

I then realized I had not thought about Lily for a solid few hours. Unfortunately, now the pain in my chest was coming back. 

I thought about sleeping it off. Having undressed, and cleaned myself off with a damp rag, I tried to get some sleep. 

But I couldn’t get comfortable. Thoughts whirled in my head, eating away at my mind as I slept. In my dreams, the blackness in Duff’s eyes turned to endless pits, all seeing and all knowing. The fire we huddled around grew into that burning tower from all those years ago, that trapped my cousin in a blazing tomb. I saw my daughter dancing on purple moonlit shores, white flowers woven in her hair, while the waves lapped calmly on the sand, until they turned from gentle waves into the crashing sea, and swallowed her up. I saw Banquo, standing a few feet away from me, reaching toward me. He mouthed some words I couldn’t make out; the sound of wind was loud in my ears, though I couldn’t feel a breeze. From the fog ahead of me, two hands reached out and tightened around Banquo, pulling him back. I tried to run after him, but he too was sucked into the fog. I could’ve sworn one of those hands bore a large, emerald ring…

I woke up in a sweat, realizing I would probably get no more sleep that night. All was quiet around me; it had to be past midnight by now. 

I thought maybe I’d take a walk. Or maybe I should check on Banquo. Yeah, Banquo. I should make sure he was alright. That dream had unsettled me, to put it mildly.

I threw a cloak around my shoulders and wandered out to his tent. Peeking in through the flaps, I saw him, asleep. I was about to leave, thinking he was fine, until I saw his eyes were open, staring into the darkness.

“Come in.” He said softly, upon seeing me. I felt exposed, like I’d been spying, but I stepped inside. 

“What brings you here so late?” He asked me, sitting up. Tired eyes, as usual. Blonde hair an unkempt mess, parts of it sticking up. 

“Why are you still up? You need your strength for tomorrow.” I said. 

“I could say the same to you.”

“Touche.”

I sat down beside him, and he didn't protest.

“I need to ask you, Banquo, how are you doing?”

He returned my gaze with a cold stare.

“I just lost a daughter and a wife, how do you think I’m doing?” He said dryly. It stung a little. But I had been foolish. He was right; it was a stupid question. 

“No, no, you’re right, I’m sorry. I just wanted to check on you, is all. Plus I couldn’t sleep…”

I stood to leave, when he grasped onto my hand, preventing me from doing so. 

“I… I had a little sibling, you know.” He began, eyes cast to the ground.

I wracked my brain for a few seconds, trying to remember him having a brother or sister, but no, I really didn’t recall any siblings. He was an only child, or so I thought. I sat back down. He did not let go of my hand.

It was quiet in that tent, pale moonlight piercing through the doorway, falling across his solemn face. I saw no stars outside. 

He spoke softly. “I was just around five, I could never remember it, but I know I remember helping my mother get ready for the baby’s arrival, thinking of how excited I was to have a little brother or sister to play with once they got older.” 

He paused a moment, fiddling with a loose thread in the blankets he was under. 

“My parents had toys for the baby, and I wanted to help out so… I gave him my favorite blanket from when I was that age. It was pale blue, and so soft... My mother had wrapped me in that blanket, and I slept with it every night.”

He took a deep breath.

“Mother used to let me put my hands to her belly, to feel the baby kick. I would laugh and laugh when I felt it, I would talk to my little sibling and wonder if it would be a boy or a girl. I would tell them stories about my day… it got a little out of hand at times, to be honest. My father tried to urge my mother to stop letting me do that… said it’s not a little boy’s place to play with babies…”

He wiped fresh tears from his eyes. For his daughter, or for his unknown sibling, I supposed I didn’t know. Probably both.

"One day they stopped kicking…

Mother’s belly was swollen for the rest of her life, but the baby was never delivered. I kept thinking maybe my little sibling would come, maybe they were only resting and would return to life when the time came, but they never did. Mother and father seemed to move on so quickly, and I didn’t understand it. There was no funeral, as we had no body…”

I sighed. “You know you don’t have to move on so quickly. Wouldn’t it be a disservice to your daughter, and to Maud, to just forget about them so soon?”

“Not forget..” he assured me, “Just. To not be so fragile. It’s not becoming, is it?... The others don’t know how hard it is for me to face them with courage, with a belief in tomorrow, in glory and victory... when all of that seems pointless to me… so far away that it isn’t worth chasing.  
What is Scotland to me? What am I defending? An empty bed, an empty home… There is my son, of course, and I’d give my very life for him.... but the world seems jarringly empty.” 

“Yes, you have your son.” I said. “Your son wants you to return home safe.”

“Do you fear I won’t if not for him?” He glanced up at me, knowingly, daring me to respond to such a drastic idea.

“No. Banquo, I won’t have you talking like that.” I said sternly. “All of Lochaber looks to you, our King looks to you, you couldn’t walk out on them like that.”

“Is that all I’m worth? I’d be glad to see myself gone, if my only value is to King and country…” he shot back, bitterly. “Dying in the service of his majesty must be of the highest honor…”

This wasn’t like him. I put my foot down.  
“That’s not what I mean! Do you really want to die?” I shouted.

He looked up at me, his eyes more pained than angry.  
“N...no.”

“My god man, then don’t say that!”

“But if I didn’t have Fleance, I don’t know if I would answer the same way. And that frightens me, Beth.”

Ah, Banquo. I hated to hear him talk like that. “That boy needs you.” I said. 

He nodded. 

“Will you stick around for me too?” I asked him. “I care about you… a lot, you know?”

Another nod.

“I need you. Screw the King, screw Lochaber and whoever the hell else wants us fighting this war, I need you, okay? I mean that. Don’t go and do something stupid.”

His eyes stared into mine again, scanning, searching for some answer within my own eyes that I was afraid to show.  
“Stupid as in flinging myself, sword in hand, towards hundreds of English men?” He laughed bitterly, for that was exactly what we were about to do, whether we liked it or not. 

“You know what I mean. I don’t want to cart you off to some churchyard to be buried.”

“I’m touched! The same to you.” I felt bits and pieces of his old self returning, and I was relieved by that.

He sighed. “I came up with a name for her, you know?” He said. “My daughter, I mean. I thought she deserved one.” 

“Oh?”

“Her name is Jamie. I think Maud would have liked it.” 

“I like it.” I said softly, “It’s a beautiful name for a little girl.”

He smiled. We were sitting so close, among the sounds of the night and the silence that beckoned me to sleep. I was tired. I think he was too. 

Tentatively, he moved to rest his head on my shoulder. I put my arm around him, hoping I could provide some comfort. 

We talked in low voices for a short while after that, and I suppose at some point we must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I remember was waking up, my arm still around him. I looked over at him, entangled with me, still asleep, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He finally looked peaceful. And although I was awake, and this was a slightly compromising state to be found in, I didn’t move away. Somehow, I felt safer than ever.

——————-

The serenity was short-lived, however, when a loud voice pierced the silence. “Banquo?” I heard it call. Bright light shone in through the flaps of the tent. Shit. Everyone was awake, there was no way I’d sneak out unnoticed now. I shook Banquo to wake him. 

“Mac—-hhmf” He was cut off as I clamped my hand over his mouth. He only had a moment to glance at the position in which we’d ended up upon falling asleep. He looked down, then looked at me again.

I put my finger to my lips. “Shhh” I whispered, and ducked under a blanket. 

He went over to the door. “Hello?” He answered. I couldn’t see the man outside, but it sounded like Macduff. 

“Banquo, where have you and Macbeth been? Duncan is addressing the troops now.”

“Oh, sorry! I overslept. I’m uh, not sure where Macbeth is.” I heard Banquo say. The flaps of the tent rustled as I heard the two of them exit. 

Shit. I was barely clothed. My tent was right next door, but what if someone saw me? Sneaking half naked out of another man’s tent? They would draw their conclusions for sure. I pressed my ear to the thin wall of the tent, listening for any commotion outside. Nothing.

I peered outside of the tent, looking from side to side. Banquo and Macduff had gone. It seemed no one was around, as they were all with Duncan.

I held my breath, snuck out as quietly as I could, dove into my tent, quickly threw on my clothes and hurried out to join the others, I found Banquo on the edge of the crowd, and stood by him, keeping my head down in the hopes that Duncan wouldn’t notice how late I was. A few other soldiers stared at me, but said nothing.

“You finally made it.” Banquo whispered. “I wondered how you’d get out of my tent in broad daylight.”

“No one was around. I just ran.” I said. This got him to smile a little.

We didn’t speak for a while, till I felt his fingertips brush mine. I looked over at him.

“We can do this together, right?” He said. “Just like old times?”

I felt myself nod. “Just like old times. Be safe out there, okay?”

“You too.” 

Just then a man shoved past me roughly, catching me off balance. He was grinning a sinister sort of grin that one could trust from a distance, but upon looking too closely it filled you with an indescribable sense of dread. “Good morning Macbeth, Banquo,” Macdonwald said, nodding to each of us.

“Good morning, Macdonwald,” I said to him, not hiding the fact that I was displeased with his so rudely shoving into me. 

He glanced at me, then Banquo, then me again. “You both were late this morning.” He remarked. 

I looked over at Banquo.  
“We overslept.”

“Both of you? Interesting. Quite a coincidence.” He tapped his foot on the ground, grinning like he knew something we didn’t. I didn’t like it at all.

“Anyway we’d better be going.” I said hastily, motioning Banquo to follow me.

Macdonwald raised an eyebrow at me, but shrugged. “Alright, if you don’t want to tell me, don’t tell me. But it’s all very strange.” He walked away, though he glanced back at us a few times. 

Banquo finally let out the breath he was holding. “He knew you were with me last night?”

I shook my head. “I’m sure he doesn’t. Plus, why does he care?”

“People might talk…”

He must have been talking about that thing I wouldn’t dare say out loud. The fear that people might talk, and decide I was sleeping with him. If someone were to spread a rumor about us, we could face dire consequences. Of course, Macdonwald would take any chance he could get to drag me through the mud.

“Don’t worry about him, you hear me?” I said. “He’s always loved making trouble.” I said, thinking back to his family history.

“Alright.” Banquo said.

We dispersed, and I paid no mind to Macdonwald for the rest of the day. We would ride that afternoon. I left to get my armor and sword, and any supplies I would need. 

There might be several months of fighting, and I didn’t know when I would see my home again. Not that it mattered, all that was left at home was a wife stricken with grief, who would hardly speak to me, save for that last interaction before I left... Lily was gone. I heard Banquo talk of an empty home, and I scolded him for saying such a thing, but to be honest, my home was just as barren. If I were to die, I wouldn’t leave much behind. I would leave Moray, which I had killed for, but after what Banquo said, I was wondering if that was enough to live for. Being Mormaer would be a stark and joyless existence if I was meant to brave it alone. I had no children to come home to, and a wife who blames me for that.

But Banquo had a son left behind, what if he didn’t return? Fleance would have no one; where would he go? He was only, what, six years old?

It didn’t matter if I died, but God forbid, if he did, what of his son?

I resolved on that day that I would do everything in my power to protect Fleance. He had gone through enough already.

Banquo was beside me, eyes cold and steely like I had never seen, even though we had been at war countless times before. It worried me, the resolution I saw on his face that day, and I hoped he would keep his promise.

I heard the call that summoned us to battle. Enough of my thoughts. I would save them for another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: What happened to Banquo's little sibling is called a "lithopedion." It's an actual scientific phenomenon; look it up if you want, though it's pretty morbid and not at all essential to the story.


	8. Blood in the Water

Days turned into weeks, turned into months. I ran my sword through another English soldier, feeling him sink onto the ground already littered with corpses. Hitting the earth with a wet, dull thud, to move no more. 

Beside me, I saw Banquo, just as he swung his sword into a man’s neck, nearly slicing his head clean off. Blood poured out of the neck as his head lolled over, a choking whisper, as the once fierce warrior collapsed to his knees, and Banquo tried to plunge the sword into another man, but the blow was blocked by the chain armor he wore. The man then met him with his own sword. Then another swing, and another. Red splattered across my friend's chest and face, and he seemed to pay no mind to it. 

Another man rushed at me, and his sword struck mine with force. He was determined to win honor on the battlefield, it seemed. He wore the bright red and yellow colors of Northumbria, but once, he failed to raise his shield, and soon only red was spreading across his clothes. 

As he lay there, I saw his helmet had flipped up, and I wished I hadn’t. Only a boy, I suspect barely eighteen.

I fought on. I had lost sight of Banquo in the sea of men. 

Before long I saw a man up on a horse, also in the colors of Northumbria. He looked important; whoever he was; significant enough that his loss would be a major blow to our enemy. I watched an arrow fly out from somewhere behind me and knock him clear off his mount. 

He fell hard on the ground below, and I heard him cry out. Perfect. I ran over to deliver the killing blow. 

He had fallen behind a small lump of earth, his horse scared away. He looked terrified when he saw me, and held up his shield, like a child hiding under a blanket. 

This was an English commander? He didn’t look nearly as strong as he did a few minutes ago. And my god, he was awfully short. I saw with the other hand he was clutching his side, the arrow still lodged in him.

“W-whoa… that’s gonna leave a mark tomorrow…” he managed to say, wincing from the pain. 

“You just-” I was perplexed.

“Sir, i-if you’re going to kill me, at least tell my wife and son I loved them, alright? My boy’s name is Osbjorn, he’s thirteen now…” With shaking fingers, he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small picture. A young boy, with dark hair; the portrait must have been done a while ago, as he looked like he was about Fleance's age.

“What?”

I stared into his dark eyes, which were pleading with me. Somehow, I saw in him a reflection of the boy soldier I killed. 

I lowered my sword, took one last glance, and left him there. He would survive. Probably. Or, it wasn’t my concern.

Osbjorn… that was a nice name.

———

After the battle, bodies littered the ground like fallen trees. I scanned the horizon for Banquo, nearly drawing my sword when I heard his voice close behind me. 

“Beth—” he said. He gave a little laugh. I turned to greet him, and that’s when I got a good look at him. He was breathing heavily, and there was blood all over his face, but I quickly realized, with some relief, that it wasn’t his own. It soaked through his hair... god, what had he been doing? It looked like he had hit someone straight through the heart, only that kind of wound would send blood spraying everywhere like that.

“Banquo, slow down.” I said. I wanted to get him to sit, but there was nothing besides… oh, a tree stump. Ironic, ha. I led him there, and had him sit down, while I knelt beside.

I handed him some water, which he drank greedily.

“Are you alright?” I asked. I poured some more water onto a cloth. It would be good to wipe off his face before it dried like that. 

“mm’fine,” he mumbled. “Do you have anything stronger than water?”

“Later.” I protested. “We know how you are when you’re drunk.”

“Come now, Beth… please?”

“No.” I stood firm. I was not going to have to carry him off the battlefield. I knew he was a lightweight when it came to drinking. He sulked a bit, but let me continue to wipe the blood off his face.

"We're getting that out of your hair." I said. "We're covered in blood, we should find a stream to wash off in. Somewhere upstream from the battle, I'm not in the mood to find a severed limb while I'm trying to wash."

He felt his head, and realized, yes, there was blood all matted in his hair. I helped him up, and we walked down to the river, which, unsurprisingly, was running red. So we travelled upstream until the water became clear again.

Fortunately it was warm enough; I stuck one hand in the water, cool and clean.

"Beth, help me undo this will you?" he asked. I helped him out of his armor, then got him to undo mine. He wasted no time in stripping off the rest of his clothes, and to be honest, I wasn't sure where to look. I hoped he didn't see I was going red in the face. Once he waded into the river I felt a lot better, and hurriedly took off my clothes too. 

I was watching him more than I should have been and you know... I wouldn't mind seeing more of him like this.

He dove underwater, rinsing the blood out of his hair, til it was golden once again. I scrubbed the blood from off my skin. A little water clears us, yes? 

He threw some water at me.

"Hey!" I shouted, "what was that for?"

"You're staring," he smirked.

"Can you blame me?"

He dunked me under the water. 

\---------

That night, we sat by the fire, sharing some rations while we recounted the day’s events. Macdonwald was there too, to my dismay. He sat with his feet toward the flames, and I wondered if he’d burn his soles that way.

“Did you hear? Earl Siward was wounded.” Macduff said. 

“Oh? That’s the Earl of Northumbria, right?” I asked.

Duff nodded. “He was shot right off his horse, I hear. He lived, but he’ll be off his feet a while.”

I felt my blood turn to ice.   
“Oh…” I said simply, taking a long drink from my cup. A very long drink. But of course, it might not have been him. Surely plenty of other men were shot today… many of them on horseback too. So… no. There was a very low chance it was him.

“Wow Beth, slow down there, take it easy,” Duff laughed. I tried to laugh too, putting down my cup.

“So… Siward, huh?” I asked. He nodded. 

“He’s dangerous, Macbeth, best watch out for him. And soon we’ll have to watch out for his son, too. In a few years he’ll be old enough to fight. Osbjorn is his name.”

I almost spit out my drink then and there.

“You alright, Macbeth?” Macdonwald asked, staring at me intently. I nodded, playing it off like it was nothing.

He continued. “Serves him right. We should have finished the job.”

The rest of us were silent, unsure of what to say.

“Plus, I hear things about that man,” he went on.

“What about him?” I asked, wary of what he was about to say.

“They say he’s taken both men and women as lovers.” Macdonwald said. “Grounds enough to lose his titles if you ask me.”

I looked over at Banquo, and he would not look up at any of us. Macduff looked uneasy as well. Macdonwald was still staring at me in a way I didn’t like at all.

“Is there anything so wrong with that?” Banquo asked. 

Macdonwald’s eyes shot over to him. “There’s a whole lot wrong with that. There’s a reason it’s illegal. You know what they do to men like that?"

More silence from the other three of us. 

"Castration." Macdonwald finished.

Banquo looked extremely unwell. He pressed on; “If someone is in love, what difference does it make if it’s a man or woman?”

“What, are you one of them?” Macdonwald taunted. 

That was it. Banquo lunged at him, striking him across the face. That was enough to get Macdonwald to sock him in the stomach, and he doubled over. That was before Macduff grabbed Macdonwald and pulled him away, while I grabbed hold of Banquo, but not before Macdonwald backhanded me, clipping me with that ring of his. I stumbled backward.

“That’s quite enough.” Macduff said, as Macdonwald struggled against him. Thank god Macduff was a large man, and strong enough to hold him.

“Are you alright?” I asked Banquo. He was coughing. 

“Let me go!” He demanded, but I held him firm. He wasn’t going to get himself in any more trouble tonight.

“You can’t talk to someone like that, Macdon,” Duff said, and finally released him. I took the invitation to leave with Banquo.

\---------------

“There’s blood on your face.” Banquo remarked, once we were in his tent. 

“Hey, I thought I was meant to be taking care of you. He socked you pretty good.”

“Can’t I return the favor?” He asked, “Plus, I’m okay.”   
He took a damp cloth and pressed it to my face. The cool against the sting of that wound was a welcome sensation. 

“Macdonwald came to me earlier today.” He mentioned. "Grabbed me by the arm, I nearly stabbed him right there. He told me to keep an eye on you. That I should be wary in trusting you.”

“What? We’ve been friends for years, Banquo…”

“I know. I don’t believe him.” He said. “And after what he said tonight I just…” he trailed off.

“He wants Moray, you know that, right?” I said.

“Yes. And if need be, know I will defend you.” He assured me. 

“Thank you. But Macdonwald has little support and few alliances in his cause. He won’t come with force, but from inside. If he’s one thing, it’s cunning.”

“My offer still stands.” Banquo said. “I won’t see Moray fall to him. He’s still only one man.”

“That can be said of any man who succeeded in getting what he wanted.”

“True.” 

We sat in silence a while. While cleaning the blood from my face, he paused, studying me for a while. He smiled a little, though I know not why.

“What about what he said today?” I asked him.

His expression grew grim. “It was dreadful.” He said. “I wasn’t going to just let him talk like that.”

“Is there a reason you feel so strongly about it?”

“W..Why do you ask?” He said quickly, suddenly apprehensive, and I realized my mistake.

“Sorry— I didn’t mean to...”

“No, it’s okay. It just seems wrong to me. For someone to be persecuted like that because of who they fall in love with. I bet if Macdonwald knew what it was like-"  
Then he stopped abruptly, as if afraid he would say too much.

I decided to reassure him. "No, I agree with you. It's not his business, or anyone else's, to tell someone who they can love." 

I could almost feel his relief. He patted my hand. “I’m glad you think so.”

Then, likely to avoid the topic that might have been on both of our minds, he asked; “But it’s late, are you staying here again tonight?”

“I suppose I am.” I said. I was tired already, and not really in the mood to leave again.

“Alright.” He crawled under the covers and pulled me in with him. Tonight's would be a welcome rest, I thought, as I curled up beside him, still unsure what was going on between us.

We had made a habit of this, and it was not one I intended to break.

————————-


	9. When The Battle's Lost And Won

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year Everyone!

That day arrived, many months later. I don’t know what I had expected. I awoke like I so often did, with him beside me, sleeping softly... His blonde hair in tangles, his arm resting across my chest, and you know he did that often. Lying on me. 

He seemed to be doing considerably better, though I could tell he still mourned for his wife and daughter, understandably so. Many times, when we were not fighting, I found him sitting quietly by a river, watching the waters run endlessly to the west, away from here, and I wondered if he was thinking of them. Or something else, or a little of both.

I would still come to him every night. We would talk sometimes, but many nights we were so tired, we’d simply fall asleep. I made a habit of bringing my clothes with me, and then sneaking back to my tent in the early morning. Especially after a long day of fighting, wondering if we’d live to see tomorrow, it was comforting to have some sort of stability, someone I could turn to, to help me forget the day’s events.

His eyes fluttered open, and something about that sunlight shining in on us, something about this entire moment seemed so familiar. Everything seemed a haze. He smiled lazily at me, his hair a mess, I remember thinking…   
He was absolutely glowing.

Then reality dawned on me. The sting of a relatively superficial gash in my forearm from a few days prior, now wrapped in bandages and having received quite enough concern from my companion here; the realization that today might be the final battle of this entire war.

Enemy ranks were diminishing, and their morale was said to be low. There was talk that they were likely to surrender within the next few days. I hoped so. It had been nearly a year since I’d seen my wife. I wrote her some letters, and she replied sometimes, but I worried for her. I felt bad, because I knew I had been having unfaithful thoughts.

“What day is it?” Banquo asked me, sleepily.

“It’s the day we can go home, provided we succeed.” I told him. I ran my fingers through his hair, absentmindedly.

“How’s your arm?” He then asked, tossing off the covers to get a better look at it. Against my protests he untied the bandages, but seemed satisfied when he saw it wasn’t infected, and was healing nicely.

“You know, sometimes I have to take care of you, right?” he said.

“Why’s that?” I asked, not that I was complaining. If he wanted to fuss over me well, I welcomed the attention.

He shrugged. “Because I can’t trust you to take care of yourself.”

“Banquo…”

“I’m kidding. Mostly. Come now, we have to be leaving soon.” He said, tugging me from the bed, and from my state of bliss. I really wished we could lay there for hours, but provided we won this war today, maybe we would be able to do just that. Later on. 

Would he let me in his bed, back home? The one he had shared with his wife? I heard he never sleeps in that bed anymore. But still, in his home? Where I very well knew I didn’t belong? Not beside him, not in his arms…

Forget it, it wasn’t going to happen anyway.

“What are you thinking about, Beth?” Banquo asked me, tugging a shirt on over his head.

“It’s nothing.” I replied. I hoped we hadn’t overslept again.

\-----------------------------------------

That day, we rode into battle, like any other, Banquo by my side.

I saw the English forces descending like waves across a wide expanse of dismal grey earth. The wind was loud in my ears, whipping around us. We charged. Swords clashed against swords in an insatiable fury, the adrenaline masking the fatigue of nearly a year’s worth of battles just like this one. I felt my sword make purchase, and I drew it away bloody. I remember when I used to wince at the sounds of men’s screams. The howling of wind, the howling of men, like a storm surrounding me.

Looking up, I saw who looked to be a general of the Northumbrian army, several feet ahead of me. It was not Siward, but someone much larger, and I wondered if I would ever see the Earl again. I did hear that he survived. I cut my way through, when this giant of a man met my eyes. 

I realized how much larger than me he looked. I was not small, but this man was gigantic. His armor glinted in the sunlight, and I tried not to let it blind me. He raised his sword, and our blades clashed with renewed force, unlike any other I had previously felt on the battlefield, at least that’s how it seemed. This man was complete muscle. I felt sick for a moment, thinking perhaps I had chosen the wrong battle. Once, his blade sliced my cheek, and I felt the blood trickle down my face. Another time, he struck me in the chin with his shield, and I thought I saw stars. I tumbled to the ground, and my sword fell a few feet away from me. No time to catch my breath, I saw him nearing me quickly, raising his sword to deliver the final blow, when I yanked a sword from the hand of a corpse that had fallen nearby, not sure if he had been enemy or friend. I blocked the gigantic man seconds before he lopped off my head. I rolled away, as I could not hold him, and his sword plunged into the earth where my head had been a few seconds ago. 

I quickly cut him down at the knees, as he hollered. I slashed my sword through his neck, and he was no more. Blood spurted out onto the field. I was sure the wound in my arm had reopened, and that the cut in my cheek would leave a scar. But no more of that now. I fought on.

In the distance, I saw what appeared to be the little Earl. But I couldn’t get a good look at him. 

The huge man I had struck down was behind me, a massive form lying on the hillside. 

A long while later, when I was weary and definitely bleeding, I heard someone calling for retreat. My breath caught in my throat, hoping it was not Scotland, but I realized it was an English voice making the call. Bodies were strewn everywhere, it seemed one could scarcely touch the ground without stepping on them in some places. It had been one of the worst battles I’d seen in a long time. More than that, body parts littered the ground. The air was thick with blood, like red mist, hovering over like souls freshly plucked from their mortal vessels, but we had won. I was finally able to breathe, despite the metallic stench in the air. 

After all this time, I could finally go home.

I tried not to ask myself, ‘what was there to go home to?’ I remembered how Gruoch and I had left one another. There was peace between us, but it was tentative. But I was sick of this awful war. I wanted to go home safe with Banquo and...

Where was Banquo anyway? I must have lost him when I took down the giant….

I scanned the field, the dead, the dying, the English fleeing. My legs felt heavy. I started running, every blonde-haired corpse set fear in my heart. But turning them over, I found no sign of him.

Then I saw him, coming toward me. Slowly, he rode on the back of his favorite horse, Adamina, whom he’d had since he was a boy. He was hunched over, gripping the reins with one hand, and another hand wrapped around his side, his head bent low….

“Banquo--” I cried, rushing over to him. He opened his eyes. It was only when I drew close to him that I saw all the blood, seeping out between his fingers…  
No... 

“Beth? Oh, thank god… mmm--” He was groaning from the pain, his breath labored.

“You’re gonna be okay, Banquo,” I assured him. I helped him down from Adamina and he clung to me for support. Near to me was a man who I recognized as one of my own, from Moray. I motioned him to come over and help me. We stripped off what armor we could. We would have to get him to the wagon, I knew, where we would bear away the wounded, but I didn’t want to leave his side.

“Lord Moray,” said one of the nurses as we approached, carrying my friend. “Who is this?”

“Lochaber.” I said. “She nodded, and helped us lift him into the wagon. At that moment his eyes, which had been shut for a while, fluttered open a moment. “Macbeth?” He asked weakly. I clasped his hand in mine.

“You’re going to be okay.” I said again. “I’m here.” But panic filled my mind. I had lost people before, many times before... The wound looked deep. I didn't want to think of losing him, not when I finally was realizing that I--

He nodded, but his eyelids were heavy, and soon he was out again. 

My men bid me leave, but I stayed near that wagon the entire journey back to camp.

——— 

I threw open the medical tent, the nurses turning blank-faced to stare up at me. Nothing seemed to startle them, and given their occupation, it wasn’t surprising. 

“You want to see him, I take it?” One of them said casually.

“Yes, yes please, where is he?” I asked urgently. 

“He’s alright, and he’s conscious. We’ve stopped the bleeding, but don’t let him sit up right now. My stitches are strong, but not that strong.”  
They moved aside, and I saw that he was laying right there behind them.

They stepped out of the tent, leaving me alone with him.

He was laid out on some coarse gray blankets, skin beaded with sweat, his chest rising and falling steadily. His shirt was gone, and there were stiff white bandages wrapped around his wound. He opened his eyes, and he actually smiled when he saw me, though his eyes were rimmed with fatigue. “Ah, Macbeth.” He said, “Did we win?” He tried to sit up, but soon realized it was a mistake.

I couldn’t contain myself, and rushed over, falling to my knees as I threw my arms around him, though I was careful to be gentle. God, he was alive, alive… I held him as if he would slip away any moment.

“Foolish man,” I muttered, a catch in my throat. “Yes, yes, we won, but how are you?” I chided him. “Can you think of nothing else than whether we won that senseless battle?”

He almost laughed, but it looked like it hurt him to do so. “I was— curious… you can’t blame me for that.”

“But how are you, Banquo? You know I was worried.” I continued to press. Reluctantly, I let him go. 

“I’m fine,” he said, “I’ve had worse, you know. You worried about me?”

“Of course I did—“

He smiled, and laid his hand over mine.

God, that smile. Makes me weak, I can say that without shame, looking back. 

In that moment, I realized a few things.

Here in this tent, Banquo was alive, but that was not always a guarantee. We might not be so lucky the next time. And with Lily, and Maud, and Jamie, I knew; we all knew, life was never a guarantee. It could be taken from us any moment, leaving words unsaid, hearts kept hidden until they are interred in the ground, things we will never know of one another. I wouldn’t let that be my fate.

And more than that, I realized.   
I was in love with Banquo. It felt so relieving to admit it to myself, yes, I loved him, he was sweet, kind, handsome, funny, mischievous, everything about him I was in love with.  
Was this the right time to say it? After all that happened today? Would it be right?

...

How do I say it?

“Banquo, I have to tell you something.”

“Oh?” He sat up a bit, bracing himself against the pillows.

“Because I’m starting to realize I don’t have forever to wait.”

“Go on?”

“I think, no, I know.   
Banquo, I--”

My heart thudded against the walls of my chest.

“I’m in love with you.” 

I watched his face for a reaction. The anticipation almost killed me. But then...

“I was hoping.” He said, his face breaking into a smile. “I feel the same way.”

“You do??”  
I felt a different kind of arrow pierce my heart.   
“Oh, Banquo, I… I’ve felt this way for what must be years now, I never thought I could tell anyone…”

“Beth…” he reached for me, then recoiled sharply, clutching at his side. “Agh…. oh god—”.

“Are you alright?” I asked him, worry returning to my mind, steadying him with my hands.

“Oh, fine, never better—.” He looked up at me. I always worried, that he would downplay something serious when he was hurt. He accused me of the same thing, but I knew he was no different. I’d make sure he didn’t do that, as I eased him back onto the pillows.

I continued. “Is that what you meant, all those years ago, when you said you’d have married me if I were a woman?” I asked him.

He nodded, sitting back down slowly, clearly still in some pain. “To be honest I don’t give a damn what you are, I’d choose you any day, if I could.”

I felt my cheeks growing warm. “Banquo…”

He managed to wink at me. I would’ve shoved him, if not for the circumstances.

I sat staring at him a while longer, I felt I had been holding my breath for so long. 

“In that case,” I said, “Since life is so fleeting, we shouldn’t wait any longer.”

He stared up at me with those eyes: inquisitive, expecting. God he was beautiful.

So beautiful that I couldn’t help what I did next.

“My lord,” I asked, my voice lower than a whisper, “May I kiss you now?”   
I was now close to him, part of me still in disbelief that I was doing this.

He laughed weakly.   
“I think we’ve waited long enough.”

I brushed a blonde curl out of his face, and, as I watched his eyes close, I leaned in, and pressed my lips to his. 

I had never felt so right. 

I finally pulled away to see him, blinking in disbelief. “My god Macbeth,” he breathed. “We… we should’ve done that a long time ago.” I cupped his face in my hands, taking in every bit of this moment. 

“Maybe when you weren’t near-mortally wounded on the battlefield?” I joked.

He half-shrugged, “Now is as good a time as any. In fact…”  
He tightened his grip on my wrist, meeting my eyes.  
“I think I’ll ask you to do it again.” 

Oh lord, oh gods above, this man was going to be the death of me. 

“I think I’ll oblige.” I replied. 

And so, I did.


	10. Sunrise At Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is gay lol

It had been so long, yet it felt like this was the first time I had seen the sun. The morning we departed for home, I stepped outside into the light, breathing in the cool, clean feeling of a spring day.

It had been a tedious few days, sitting in on Duncan’s mind-numbing war councils, negotiating the surrender of the Northumbrians. I saw the Earl Siward standing, looking comically shorter than his fellow English lords. He seemed to stand up on his tiptoes when facing Duncan. Besides being short, he had several losses to shoulder now, no doubt further injuring his pride.

He did look at me though. He almost smiled when he saw me, but quickly stifled his grin. Our encounter out on the battlefield would be a secret we might each take to our graves. 

Strange, if he really saw me as a friend. He was my enemy. But maybe it’s never so black and white. 

He had to give up Lothian, as well as pay substantial tribute to Duncan for the losses he caused us. Though, it seemed like that payment never went to those who lost the most; those who lost husbands and fathers and sons…

I encountered the Earl Siward upon leaving the meeting, anxious to pass out next to Banquo. He had been absent for most of the negotiations, as he was recovering from his wounds, and I would have much rather have been with him than listening to Duncan and Siward bicker away. I needed peace, comfort, by God, I needed sleep. I needed to be near him. But Siward stopped me. I almost didn’t see his small form beneath the low torchlight.

“Oh!” I said, nearly running into him. “Excuse me…” I said awkwardly, trying to slink away because I really was exhausted. That scratchy old wool blanket on the ground would be heaven right about now.

He stopped me before I could run away.

“You saved me,” he said. “Why?”

“I find that if someone gives you a second chance at life, it’s best not to question it,” I said simply, walking past him. 

“But sir, I don’t even know your name!”

“Good!” 

I looked back and he looked dejected, dragging his feet in the ground. I remembered what the others had said about him, that he was not to be trusted. Still, did I really believe what they said, after seeing the man myself? I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to...

“Wait…” I took a few steps back toward him. “I’m Macbeth. Mormaer of Moray.”

“Nice to meet you, Macbeth.” He beamed. “Sorry we had to meet in these circumstances.”

“Yeah… good to meet you too.” He never ceased to surprise me. I was on my way after that.

I threw open my tent to see Banquo, who unsurprisingly, was already asleep. His blonde hair was tangled, sprawled over the pillow, white bandages peeking through from under his shirt. 

I just about collapsed next to him. I could tell the battle had taken a lot out of him, what with the blood loss and all, but he was doing better. I curled up beside him, pulling the blanket over him before climbing under it myself, and I was out before another thought crossed my mind.

\-----------------

“I’m sure.” He protested.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes, just- augh!” He tried to stand up on his own, and failed, clutching his side. The cut had been deep. I caught him before he fell. 

“Are you sure you’re ready to leave like this?” I asked, concern in my voice. 

He nodded. “We won’t delay any longer. Just help me get to the wagon and I’ll be fine.” 

Slowly, I helped him up, and, with him leaning on me, we made our way to the wagon. I was adamant in asking if he needed anything, to which he just laughed, and touched a hand to my face. “I’ll be fine soon enough. You worry too much.”

“Well, someone has to,” I smiled, just glad to have him here with me.

Macduff approached me as we were readying our horses. “Is he alright?” he asked. He had heard of what happened. Banquo had fought valiantly, they said. He and I had decimated the English troops. Toward the end of the battle, someone had managed to spear him in the side, and he continued to fight for a time before the adrenaline wore off and the blood loss got to him. 

“He’s doing fine.” I replied. I wasn’t objectively worried- Banquo was always the type to pull through. I just… felt different. A sort of desire to protect him that I couldn’t place.

Macduff gave me a knowing look. “You’ve hardly left his side this entire time. He’s lucky to have someone like you.”

I avoided eye contact but I couldn’t keep myself from smiling a little. If only he knew. 

At one point, we stopped our procession to water the horses and take a bit of a rest. I headed over to the wagon. Banquo was propped against some pillows with some of our other men.

“How are you?” I asked.

“I didn’t get a chance to thank you, by the way.” He said. “For saving me.”

“Well I couldn’t just leave you like that, could I?” 

“You’re sweet.” 

“Shut up. You might’ve died.”

He laughed. “Well in any case, thank you.”

“It’s no problem.” I said. 

I hadn’t seen such a beautiful morning in what seemed like months and months. The air was crisp, the sun beaming gently down through clear skies, the grasses beaded with dew. I felt like the earth was sighing in relief, the peace that followed after the storm. I hadn’t taken the time to appreciate these little things: the beauty of nature and the world around me, since Lily died nearly two years ago. It was sad, as if the beauty of the world had died with her. 

I realized I didn’t want that to happen. I took stock of what I still had. For one thing, I had Banquo now, which was worth everything the world could offer. We could try to rebuild our lives together, maybe he and Fleance and I could go on one of our outings, the way we used to. We could even teach Fleance to ride a horse now; he was probably old enough.

Banquo. I looked over at him. How the hell did this happen to me? I remembered the first time I considered I might have feelings for him. And now… now, I had never thought I’d get this far. God, I must’ve done something right, if I had gotten him to fall for me.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked me, hand brushing over mine. 

“I’m just thinking of where we’ll go from here.” I replied truthfully. “So much has changed.” 

“Things always change.” He mused.

“For the better?” 

He smiled. “Sometimes.”

“I think you and I…” I said, “I think that is a change for the better.”

A little laugh escaped his lungs. “I think so too.” He replied.

—————————

We arrived at Lochaber Castle that evening; deciding that I would spend the night there before returning home. The same old stone walls rose from the ground, and I knew a little boy waited inside, probably already having heard the news of his father’s return. I helped Banquo down from the wagon; we could house most of the men within the castle or in the town nearby. He leaned on me as we made our way to the door. I had to admit, there was something about having him depend on me like this. 

When we knocked at the door, one of the servants opened it, but right behind him, Fleance came running, pushing past the poor servant and throwing himself around Banquo’s waist, as he did not reach any higher. 

“Ah!, Fleance,” Banquo shouted, still sore from his wounds, but he still wrapped his arms around the child, who I could now see was shaking with sobs. 

“I thought you wouldn’t return.” Fleance said softly, “I missed you, I missed you so much….”

“I missed you too, my son,” Banquo whispered, stroking the boy’s golden hair. He kissed the top of his head, then laughed. “I’m home now, Fleance, it’s alright! It’s going to be alright.”

He slowly rose to stand, leaning on me again. I had been watching this reunion like an outsider, it was touching, but I couldn’t help but feel I was intruding on something. Banquo turned to me then. “My apologies, Macbeth. Fleance, you remember Macbeth, yes?”

“We used to play tag.” I said, kneeling down to level with him.

Fleance stared wide eyed at me. “When Mama and Lily were here, yes.”

A look of sadness crossed Banquo’s face, something I hadn’t seen for a good long while. I think the war helped him forget, but now he was remembering. 

“Fleance dear,” he said, changing the subject, “would you mind if Macbeth stayed the night with us?” He glanced over at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Okay,” said the little boy, seemingly too excited about his father being back to think about much else. 

I helped Banquo inside, Fleance following close. Banquo was greeting the servants upon his return, and to one of them he said, “Tell the cook to prepare us something to eat. It’s been a long journey. Fleance, have you been good while I was away?”

“Yes father,” said the little boy. Fleance was always so sweet. Part of me hurt inside though; he reminded me too much of Lily. I imagined her greeting me in the same way when I came back home tomorrow, running up to hug me around my ankles and begging to be picked up, only to remember that she wouldn’t be there. 

“Macbeth and I need to wash up,” Banquo said, patting his son on the head. “Right, Macbeth?”  
I realized with some embarrassment that I was in dire need of a bath.

“Fleance, will you be a good boy and go play until I get back?” Banquo asked gently. Fleance looked sad to not be with his father, but he nodded and ran off. 

We got up to his room, where the servants had already prepared a bath. He looked at me, almost embarrassed. “Um, Macbeth.”

“Yes?”

“Would you help me change these bandages…” he asked me. “I would ask a servant to do it, but they’d ask so many questions… I just…” 

“Oh, I mean, of course.”

And it wasn’t as if I hadn’t seen him without clothes before, and it wasn’t as if I had never disrobed him myself to care for sustained wounds, and it wasn’t as if he had never done the same for me, but for some reason it was different now. There were feelings here, swirling around in my head like summer storms. 

I slid off his shirt, which was already open. I couldn’t help but notice his muscular arms and chest, he really kept all that hidden under there. Tragic, really. 

And something about taking off his clothes was, well…

“You’re staring.”

I flushed red, avoiding eye contact and began undoing the bandages. He winced as I pulled the cloth away from the wound; it was still tender. I got some water with a cloth and began cleaning it off, feeling his chest rise and fall slowly. “Does that hurt?” I asked him. 

“It’s fine,” he said through his teeth. “Ow.. Macbeth..”

“Sorry,” I apologized, drawing the cloth away. 

He then began to take the rest of his clothes off. “Eh, Macbeth, you might want to see yourself out.” He said, teasingly.

“Well I don’t really… want to, but I will,” I joked, prompting him to shove me playfully. 

“Be patient, Macbeth.” He said, “It’s been three days. There’s some things in life you have to wait for.”

“See you later Banquo,” I laughed, going out the door and shutting it behind me. I headed to the guest room, where I found another bath drawn for me. I hoped it hadn’t gotten too cold. I was filthy, I realized, from being at war so long. I stepped into the water, feeling the welcoming heat seeping deep into my bones, and let all my troubles soak away.

————-

I met Banquo out in the hall a while later. He cleaned up nicely, I thought. Hair combed and wearing a dark blue tunic that… looked very nice with his eyes. Ehehm. One of the servants approached us. “My lord, supper’s ready,” she said, “we’ve been anxiously awaiting your return.”

My stomach grumbled and I realized how hungry I actually was. I hadn’t had a decent meal in an entire year. 

“This way, Macbeth,” Banquo said, and we headed down to the hall.

The hall was buzzing with soldiers and lords who had just returned from the war. After a year at war the food was more delicious than anything I’d ever tasted, and I was starving. Banquo and I took turns recounting tales from the war, sparing some of the more gruesome details. Fleance listened intently the whole time, reacting with awe between bites. Some of the stories made him laugh, like the shenanigans back at camp, with my sneaking half clothed back to my tent, hoping no one would see me (a story which we told quietly lest the other guests would hear). I was glad to see Fleance so happy, because I remembered how upset he had been the last time I saw him. 

“You’re funny, Macbeth,” he had said to me giggling. I decided to take it as a compliment.

When we had finished, Fleance whispered something in Banquo’s ear. I saw him nod, and Fleance looked excited. 

————

I came to Banquo’s room that night, clothed in my nightgown, being sure to knock first. He called for me to come in. He was sitting on the edge of the bed; it seemed some of the bandages had come undone and he was trying to re-bandage himself, with little success. Fleance was here now too, his feet dangling off the large bed. 

“Banquo, let me do it.” I said, coming over to him. He handed me the roll and made no protest, and I redressed his wound quickly enough. He was noticeably silent while I did this. “Better?” I asked. He nodded. 

Fleance looked restless, bouncing on the bed. “Papa, you promised we could—“ 

“I know I promised.” He grinned. “Macbeth, would you join us tonight?” 

“I wanted to build a fort!” Fleance said excitedly.

“Then a fort we shall build!” Banquo exclaimed, messing up Fleance’s hair. He glanced at me, hoping I would play along. “Come Macbeth, won’t you?”

“I’m not intruding on some sort of father-son moment, am I..?” I asked, feeling as though I was.

“Pfft. Of course not. You’re an honored guest. And so much more,” he whispered the last part to me. Seeing the eagerness in Fleance’s eyes did me in. He had lost so much, and I wanted to make him happy. Banquo too. I caved. “Alright,” I said, “Fleance, off the bed now, we’ll need this quilt.” 

I helped Fleance drape the quilted bedspread over the bedposts, and we all crawled inside our new blanket fort. I realized I hadn’t done this since I was a child myself. If I remember correctly, Banquo and I had built forts like this when we were young and staying over with each other’s families. Sometimes our parents would come in and scold us for messing up the comforters, but we still had so much fun. We’d pretend that the fort was our own castle, and we’d make believe that we were knights, or kings, or whatever was our fancy that particular night. And to think, here we were again. It felt so silly, yet I wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

The hanging curtain gave this space an intimate feel; the intricate patterns of the quilt were softly illuminated by the pale light of the moon, the candles at the bedside.

“It’s actually quite nice in here,” I remarked.

Banquo and Fleance were cuddled up to one another. “Come over here, Macbeth.” Banquo said to me.

Was he sure? In front of his son? 

I lay beside him almost tentatively, and he put his arm around me. I felt myself shiver, in a good way. Consider the shock I felt when he kissed me on the cheek. 

“Banquo!” I exclaimed, turning visibly red. “In front of Fleance?” 

I could see him smirking and I wanted to shove him.

Fleance didn’t seem to register any of this. “Papa, will you tell me a story?” He asked.

“What story should I tell?” Banquo asked him. 

“Tell the pond story,” Fleance said eagerly. Banquo looked nervously at me.

“Are you sure you want to hear that one… Fleance?” he asked. What pond story did he mean?

“It’s my favorite story, please Papa,” he said. “Macbeth, you were in it…”

Banquo winced at this. I eyed him playfully. “Banquo, I’m dying to know, what is this pond story your son seems to know so well?”

Banquo sighed. “Remember that time you lost your cape…”

“Shhshshh papa don’t spoil it!” exclaimed Fleance.

“He lived it, Fleance,” Banquo argued, but began telling the story. “Well, once upon a time, Macbeth and I were returning from war. It was a very windy day, and Macbeth had worn his cape in order to keep warm. Now, either his cape wasn’t fastened well enough, or the wind was just incredibly strong that day, because a strong gust blew his cape straight off, and into a pond nearby. Now, quite understandably, Macbeth was not happy about this; it was a nice cape, you know, and he was going to be awful cold the rest of the way home. So he ran over there, to try and get it back. He didn’t take off his armor, mind you. He was using a stick to reach for the cape to pull it back to shore, when he slipped in the mud, and fell right into the pond.”

Fleance burst out laughing. 

“This is your son’s favorite story? Banquo!” I complained, “How many times have you told this story?”

“Oh there are plenty of other stories about you, Macbeth…” Banquo said, receiving another glare from me. I would have absolutely shoved him, if not for his injury.

“What does he take me for? A bumbling fool? You know, I could tell plenty of stories about you, Banquo.” I laughed.

“Really? Can we hear them?” Fleance asked excitedly.

“There was that time you accidentally called the king ‘father.’” I said.

“Oh! That was embarrassing. He thought it was funny though.”

“You were mortified, Banquo,” I laughed. “Come Fleance, What other stories does your father tell about me?”

He told me more, each one more embarrassing than the next, but as time went on, we grew sleepier. 

I looked over at Banquo. My arm around his shoulders felt so right, his body pressed to mine. 

Before long, Fleance had drifted off to sleep, cuddled up next to his father. “Goodnight, my boy.” Banquo said fondly. He looked up at me. Unspoken words said what I was so longing to say.   
“You look tired, Macbeth.” Was all he said. 

I placed my hand on his side. “Does it hurt?” I asked him. 

He pulled my hand away. “Not terribly.” He said, rolling over to rest his head on my shoulder, his hand reaching to intertwine with mine. “It’s all over now, Macbeth.”

“Is it? It seems like something is just beginning.” I remarked.

“That too. I quite like lying here with you.” He said softly.

“We should do it more often.” I said. 

He sounded amused. “You think?” 

I moved to kiss him, turning so I could face him, and he pulled me in. I wondered again how I had gotten here, making out with this beautiful man. We dared not go too far, Fleance was still sleeping beside us. Even still, my god, he was good at this. It was a lot better than it was back in the hospital tent. He was reluctant to let me go, and we let it drag on for far longer than we should have, believe me, but we were tired, and dearly in need of sleep.

“Goodnight, Macbeth.” He said, half- breathless. 

“Goodnight, Banquo,” I said, smiling against my pillow.

———————-

The next morning I awoke slightly saddened, knowing I would have to leave him. I looked over at him; he had hardly moved the entire night, still nestled against my side, his arm resting across me. 

I didn’t want to move at all. Maybe I’d stay a little longer…

“Macbeth?” Came his sleepy voice. 

“Good morning.” I said softly. His eyes started to close again. 

“How is my son?” He asked, without looking up or opening his eyes.

I glanced over where Fleance had been sleeping. He was sprawled out, his feet where his head should be and his arms taking up as much space as he could. “He’s fine,” I reported, wondering how that boy could move so much in his sleep. 

“I don’t want you to go, Beth.” Banquo then said to me.

“I don’t want to either, believe me.” I said. 

“But you must go home.” 

“I know, and I will.” I rose from the bed, lifting my arms over my head to stretch. His eyes never left me. 

I tugged on my clothes, and sat on the edge of the bed to put my shoes on. 

A few precious moments later, so it seemed, and I was standing at the castle gates, and he had Fleance by the hand, and he kissed me goodbye. 

“Promise you’ll visit soon?” He asked.

I knelt to kiss his hand, something that left him taken aback, but he seemed to find it sweet nonetheless. “I promise,” I said.

Fleance ran up and hugged me too, his head only as high as my waist. 

My wife was waiting for me at home. I crossed through the gates and left behind my lover, my head spinning with thoughts. Reality came back to me; I had a wife, for God’s sake, I had a wife! What was I doing with this man? There was a time and a place for him and me, but that time was gone…

But then I remembered him, how he seemed to understand me like no other, how I felt when I looked at him, how everything seemed so right, and I couldn’t just look away. I needed him now, and it was terrifying, but it was so exciting. I would ride home to my wife today, but I knew that last night would not be the last night I spent with Banquo. This was all too good to waste.

\--------


End file.
